Detention?
by FanFicWriter95
Summary: Emma Turner 4. Emma gets in trouble at school and faces the consequences at home. Warning: Spanking.
1. Chapter 1

Emma and Timothy were on their way to school. Walking in to the school yard, they saw their classmates huddled together.

"What's going on?" Timothy asked, once they reached the group.

"Mr Jones got arrested." Jack said. He smiled at Emma. He had been doing that a lot lately. Emma didn't understand why.

"Arrested for what?" Timothy asked. He knew Mr Jones, and he didn't think he was the type to get arrested.

"Indecent exposure." One of the teenage boys piped up, grinning. "More like for being a fag queen."

Everybody laughed, except Tim and Emma.

Emma frowned. She didn't think it was funny.

Even Jack cracked a smile, until he saw the look on Emma's face. Then he coughed, trying to hide his laugh behind his hand.

One of their classmates walked up to the group. "Emma, could we talk?" Johnny asked.

Emma smiled softly at him. She had an idea what he wanted to talk to her about.

Jack and Timothy watched them walk away. Both wondering what we were talking about.

"Did you hear?" Johnny asked, once they were alone. "About Mister Jones?"

Emma nodded. "I heard he got arrested."

"For being gay."

Emma sighed. "Yes."

"Will you help me, now? If my parents find out, they'll kill me."

"I really don't think they will." Emma said. "They're your parents. You've told me about them, they sound like really nice people. They should accept you for who you are."

"All I know is that I can't stay here." Johnny said. "A place where I'm not wanted."

Emma sighed, thinking about how her parents would respond to her helping him run away. "I understand, I do. And I'm really sorry, but I can't help you." She sighed. "I really wish I could."

The boy nodded, and walked away.

Emma sighed as she watched him leave. She really wished she could help him, but she knew her new parents would never approve of it.

"What were you two talking about?" Jack asked.

Emma startled. She hadn't heard him walk up to her. She frowned, as she walked away. "None of your business."

Jack looked at Timothy, who shrugged. He too, didn't know what she was angry about.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the day, Emma couldn't think about anything else besides the arrest. Only two more hours to go before the school day would end.

They sat in Latin. Emma in the middle, Timothy on her left and Jack on her right. She couldn't help but snort as the teacher talked about God.

Emma whispered to her friends. "I just don't understand how God can be so ignorant. I know he isn't real, but I just can't believe they would follow his stupid ways."

Jack nudged her, hard.

Emma looked up. Miss Juner was looking at her, and so was the rest of the class.

"Miss Turner." Her teacher said. "Can you repeat what you just said."

Emma clenched her jaw. "With pleasure. " She smirked. "If god indeed exists, he can't be anything other than ignorant, and possibly even stupid if he believes that love is something we choose."

The whole class grew silent.

"I have some other words, if you prefer. Like idiotic, imbecile, retard. Shall I go on?"

"That's enough, Miss Turner." Her teacher said harshly. "Go to the head matron's office, this instant."

Emma swallowed, but stood up and gathered her school supplies.

Timothy grimaced, when she looked his way. She threw him a soft smile. She walked out of the room with her head high, not the least sorry for what she said. She sighed. But how was she supposed to tell her parents?


	3. Chapter 3

"Miss Turner, you can come in now."

Emma looked up at the secretary. She had been sitting in the waiting area for almost ten minutes. She nodded, as she stood up.

Emma took a deep breath before walking into the Head Matron's office. She felt nervous. She had never been in trouble before. Not here, and not even back in the future.

The Head Matron sat behind her old wooden desk. In front of it stood two leather chairs. The walls were covered in diploma's and pictures with her and what Emma could only assume were famous people.

'Sit down, Miss Turner." The Head Matron said.

"Apologise, and I may be able to show you leniency."

"Apologise for what, exactly?" Emma asked.

"For defiling The Lord."

Emma snorted. "I have no intention of apologising for anything. Especially not for having my own opinion."

"Your opinion does not belong in this school." The matron said.

"Then I don't belong in this school." Emma said. "Not in one that stands for everything I despise."

"Detention, Miss Turner. One week." The Matron said. "If I could, I would cane your backside."

Emma blushed. How dare that woman?

"But since your parents didn't sign the approval papers, I can't." The woman sounded genuinely sad that she wouldn't be able to hit the teenager.

Emma swallowed, suddenly very grateful for her parents.

"You can fight it out with your parents later," The Head Matron continued. "But I should warn you. If you do come back, you better be prepared to repent."

Emma bit her tongue. "Yes, ma'am." A shouting match with her principal, would do no good now. She would be in enough trouble with her parents, simply by getting a detention.

Emma said goodbye and turned to leave, but was stopped by the Head Matron's voice. "Before you leave, Miss Turner, can I ask what brought this on?"

Emma paused, unsure how to respond. "What do you mean?"

"The Turner's took you on. They're good people, religious people. I know they are not to blame for your believes." She folded her hands, as if she was going to pray. "It must be your past that made you into who you are. I shall pray for you. Pray that you will turn into a better person."

Emma clenched her jaw. She so badly wanted to retort, but she imagined the disappointed faces of her parents, so she simply nodded.

"I shall pray for Mr Jones as well. Let's hope he'll be cured soon, of this disgusting disease."

That was too much for Emma. The woman could speak bad about her, but not about her friends. She no longer cared what the consequences would be. She snorted. "The only thing disgusted about this is you, and everyone else that shares your narrow-minded view."

"I would be careful if I were you, Miss Turner." The woman's angry eyes blazed.

"No point." Emma said. She opened the door, and turned around one last time. "I'm done with this conversation."

Emma walked out of the office, leaving behind a severely angry Head Matron. She opened up her ledger and picked up the phone. It was time to notify Mr and Mrs Turner of their charge's behaviour.


	4. Chapter 4

Emma walked angrily through the school's hallway. How dare that woman? She was shaking with anger. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her raging heart. She leaned her back against the wall.

The bell rang, signalling break time.

Emma smiled. She knew what she could do. She walked over to the school yard. She looked around, and smiled as she saw the person she was looking for. She walked over. "Johnny, could we talk?"

They walked away from the others.

"So," The boy said. "You came back."

Emma nodded. "I thought hard about it. And you're right. This is no place for you to live." Emma shook her head. "No way for anyone to live." She sighed. "I was wrong, and if you still want my help, you'll have it."

Johnny smiled. "Thanks, Emma."

"Have you tried going to the police?" Emma asked. They had walked over to a quiet place on the school yard.

"What could they do?" Johnny asked. "Besides, I tried the police. They didn't help me. Quite the opposite." He sighed. "All it did was cause me more trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"I got arrested, for indecent exposure."

"What? When?"

Johnny shrugged. "About a year ago. It's just how things are. Everyone feels that way. I mean, you're the first person I know who doesn't believe that." He smiled.

Emma grimaced. "I didn't realise people still thought like this."

"They don't think that way where you're from?"

Emma hesitated. "I suppose. I mean, some people do. I just don't tend to hang around them."

"What about your parents? Your birth parents, I mean."

Emma smiled sadly. "I'm not sure. I never knew them that well."

"I'm sorry." Johnny grimaced. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Emma shrugged. "That's okay. I just don't like to live in the past. I prefer to focus on the moment."

The duo was quiet for a moment, each lost in their own thought. "Are you sure about this?" Emma asked.

"Yes, I am."

"What about your friends and family?" She asked. She wanted him to understand what it would mean. "You'll miss them, trust me."

Johnny smiled softly. "I know I will. But I can't be what they want me to be." He sniffed. "They won't want me the way I am."

"Oh Johnny." Emma grabbed his hand and held it tight. "I accept you for who you are. And you are strong, and selfless. But you're right, you have been strong and selfless for too long." Emma sighed. "And I will help you, anyway I can, with whatever you want to do. I'll be here."

"Thank you, Emma." Johnny said. "You're my first real friend."

Emma smiled. She squeezed his hand.

Johnny blushed, and pulled his hand back. "When are we going to do it?"

"It can't be tonight." Emma said. "There are things I need to prepare. But I promise it'll be soon."

"Thank you." Johnny smiled. He hesitate before asking a question that has been on his mind for a while. "How do you know so much about all of this?"

"It's part of what I did, before." Emma smiled softly, remembering her friends. "Helping people like you, it's what I'm good at." She looked away. "It's all I've ever been good at."

Johnny smiled. "I hear you're not that bad at nursing, either."

"Yeah." Emma smiled. "I suspect that's just my parents humouring me, though."

"No." Johnny shook his head. "You're the perfect person to be a nurse."

Emma smiled shyly. "I guess we'll see."

The bell ran out, startling both of them. They quickly said goodbye, and Emma smiled as she watched Johnny walk away. He looked like a weight had lifted of him, and she was glad she played a small part in it. Consequences be damned.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been easy, sneaking out of the school yard. No one was watching her.

Emma didn't feel guilty. She was done with this school, and everything it represented.

Emma walked through town, not sure where she was going. The more she walked, the angrier she became. How dare that woman? How dare this town?

As if knowing what to do, her feet brought her in front of the little terraced house.

Emma rang the bell, twice, shortly. The door was opened a few seconds later.

"Emma." Aunt Chummy said. She smiled at the teenager. "That's a nice surprise. Come in."

"Where is he?" Emma asked, angrily.

Aunt Chummy frowned. "I'm sorry, who? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Then she heard his voice from the living room. "Who was it, Camilla?"

Emma pushed past her aunt and walked through the hallway. "I need to talk to you." Her voice echoed through the hall.

"Young lady," Aunt Chummy called after her. "You can't just barge in to someone's home screaming like a fire truck. What's going on?"

But Emma wasn't listening. She walked into the living room.

Peter was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, playing with little Freddie. He smiled as he saw Emma walk in.

"How dare you?" Emma raged. "How can you just sit there, enjoying yourself, knowing you did what you did?"

Peter frowned and stood up. Emma continued, before he could reply.

"That boy did nothing wrong. He is scared. And all you did was make it worse." Now she started, she couldn't stop. "How could you arrest him? You're the worst uncle ever. No, actually, you're the worst person ever. Did you enjoy it? Breaking someone down like that. Making little boys cry?"

"Emma." Aunt Chummy exclaimed in shock. She had never heard Emma speak that way to anyone.

"I don't appreciate being talked to in that way, young lady." Uncle Peter said sternly. "Especially not in my own home. I suggest you change your tone, or you'll find your bottom warmed up in no time."

Emma blushed bright red, her anger weakening. She realised he was right, and calmed down. "I'm sorry."

Uncle Peter nodded, his face still in a frown. "That's better, thank you. Now, what is this all about?"

Emma swallowed. "Johnny Mane."

Uncle Peter frowned. "Am I supposed to know him?"

Emma shrugged. "He's my friend. He got arrested."

Uncle Peter sighed. "I'm not the only police officer in this town, Emma. What did he got arrested for?"

"Indecent exposure."

"A boy your age?"

Emma nodded.

"I would remember that." Uncle Peter said. He shook his head. "I haven't made such an arrest in two years."

Emma blushed. She felt bad for screaming at her uncle now. "I'm sorry." She shifted on her feet.

Aunt Chummy smiled kindly at her. "Why don't we sit down, and you can tell us why you're here." She sat down on the arm chair, leaving the sofa free for the others.

Emma sank down on the sofa, her head in her hands. "I want to help him." She said. "But I don't know how."

"I don't think he would want you to pity him." Aunt Chummy said.

"I don't pity him, I feel bad for him." Emma said, looking up at her aunt. "He's being denied to be himself. Where's god in that? Where's humanity in that?"

"I can't answer that, Emma. It's the way it is."

"It's not right though, is it?"

Uncle Peter shrugged. "It's the law."

"Still doesn't make it right."

Peter sighed as he sat down on the sofa, next to Emma. "Maybe not, but it's what I have to do. It's my job."

"I get that. I do, I really do. I'm not angry at you. Not really." She sighed. "I just wish things were different."

"I'm guessing they are different in 2018?"

"Yeah." Emma smiled softly. She was glad they are, but she wished she could change the way things were now.

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?" Uncle Peter asked.

"I suppose, but it doesn't help them now, does it?"

"Maybe not." Aunt Chummy said. "But it might give them hope."

"But I can't tell him."

"Well, then let it give _you_ hope. Things will get better."

Emma couldn't see how that could help her friend now. "He shouldn't have to go through this. He's just a child." She said.

"And he's lucky. They will go easy on him."

A thought suddenly struck her. "Can I speak for him? Defend him?"

"When was he arrested?"

Emma shrugged. "Not sure. A few months ago."

Uncle Peter sighed. "Then I'm afraid it's too late. He'll already have gone to court."

The trio was quite for a moment, all looking at Freddie paying on the floor. Until uncle Peter broke the silence. "You're lucky I didn't smack your bottom right there." The man said. "If I would have spoken that way to my uncle, he would have smacked my mouth."

Emma blushed. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are." Uncle Peter said. "You got angry, and lashed out. But you can't do that. It's no way for a young lady to act. And I think your parents will agree with me."

"I know." Emma sighed. "Especially Patrick. He would have swatted me good for disrespecting you like I did." She pursed her lips. "I should have never treated you like that. I'm really sorry." She hesitated, her face turning bright red. "Are you going to..."

"Spank you?" Uncle Peter finished her sentence. He shook his head. "Not this time. However," He warned her. "Next time you speak to me that way, I'm smacking your bottom, right there and then. No matter where we are. I will not tolerate that kind of disrespect."

Emma's face was still bright red. She nodded, but was too embarrassed to speak.

Uncle Peter looked at his wife, who nodded. She grabbed Freddie and walked into the kitchen with him. Emma watched them go, dread filling in her stomach.

"I am going to smack you, now." Uncle Peter said, carefully watching Emma's reaction. "For your disrespect." He sighed. "I can't let this go."

Emma grimaced, and blushed again, but nodded. She took a step forward, before faltering.

Uncle Peter smiled softly. He crossed the distance between them, before gently turning her to the side.

Emma took a deep breath, and waited for the impact.

Uncle Peter raised his hand, before bringing it down firmly. He repeated it three more times, alternating cheeks with every smack.

Emma jumped at every smack. Her bottom tingled when her uncle had finished. She rubbed her behind with both her hands.

Emma hesitated. She wasn't sure what to do now. She had never been in a situation like this before. Was he going to forgive her?

Uncle Peter turned her around slowly and moved her closer to his chest. He put his arms around her and held her close.

Emma relaxed in the hug, and laid her head on his chest. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Uncle Peter said, kissing the side of her head. "And you're forgiven."

Emma smiled, knowing the relationship with her uncle hadn't suffered.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma walked in the living room, and was immediately faced with two angry parents.

"Where have you been?" Patrick started. "The school called this afternoon, said you were given a detention. We expected you home hours ago."

"I was at Aunt Chummy's."

That clearly wasn't the answer her parents had been expected, but they recovered quickly. Shelagh crossed the room in three strides, checking Emma for obvious injuries.

"You have no idea how worried we were." Patrick said.

Emma snorted, not used to such shows of affection. She pulled away from the other woman. "Clearly not enough to come look for me."

Shelagh turned Emma to the side and smacked her behind, hard. Three times, in rhythm with her words. "Don't you dare."

"Ow." Emma cried out. She turned away from her mother, rubbing her behind with both hands.

Patrick raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Emma blushed. "Uncle Peter smacked me."

Patrick sighed. "What for?"

Emma swallowed. "Disrespect."

Shelagh frowned. "That doesn't sound like you."

"But then again," Patrick said, frowning. "Neither does blasphemy." He sighed. "You usually know when to bite your tongue. What happened?"

Emma sighed. "I got angry."

"We gathered that. But why?"

Emma took a deep breath. "Mr Jones, he got arrested."

Patrick frowned. "Mr Jones?"

"Lucy's dad." Emma explained. "From year 6."

"Arrested for what?"

"Indecent exposure." Emma blew out her breath. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Emma." Shelagh said.

"Is that why you went to Peter? Because he arrested Mr Jones?"

Emma shook her head. "No. I don't think he had anything to do with it."

"Then why?" Patrick asked. "And why did you get a detention?"

Emma sighed. "I was talking to Jack and Tim about the arrest, and I said some things. The teacher heard me, and send me to the Head Matron's office."

"Because you said something?"

Emma grimaced. "I told you, I was angry."

Patrick sighed. "What did you say?"

"I really don't think it's worth repeating."

Patrick shook his head. "That's not up to you to decide."

"Why don't we sit down." Shelagh suggested. "I'll make us a cup of tea." She

knew Patrick was getting frustrated, and hoped a cup of tea would calm him

down.

Emma sat down on the sofa, crossing her arms in front of her. She kept her eye on her parents. She could hear her mother in the kitchen. Her father sat down on the other sofa, his face set in a frown. "Can you explain to us what happened? In the head Matron's office." Patrick asked.

Emma swallowed. "She wanted me to apologise."

"Then, why didn't you?"

Emma shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's not good enough, Emma." Patrick said. He had got frustrated with her

answers.

Emma didn't know how to reply to that.

Luckily, her mother came into the living room, carrying a tray with three cups of

tea and some biscuits. She placed the tray on the table and sat down next to her

husband, taking his hand in hers. "Just tell us what happened."

Emma swallowed again, before looking down at her fingers. "She wanted me to

apologise. I had no intention of apologising for anyone for having my own

opinion. And so she gave me detention."

Emma tentatively looked up. "She said that she would cane me."

Patrick's frown deepened. "Did she?"

Emma quickly shook her head. "She wanted to. But you didn't sign a paper."

Her mother nodded. "We prefer to do the punishing ourselves."

"What happened after that?" Her father asked, putting everyone back on track.

Emma looked down at her hands again. "If she would've let me leave then, all of

this wouldn't have happened."

"What do you mean, if she would have let you leave?" Patrick frowned.

"She called me back, she wanted to know why I said those things. She was

mean. She made it seem like I was some broken kid that had to be saved." She sniffed. "Like there was something wrong with me."

"Oh, Emma." Shelagh moved to sit next to Emma, and pulled her daughter to

her chest as the teenager continued describing what happened. "I didn't say

anything I swear. But then she started talking bad about Mr Jones, and how

disgusting he was." She sniffed. "I couldn't let her say those things. Especially

because it's not true."

"What did you do?" Her father asked.

Emma swallowed. "I said she was the disgusting one, and then I walked out."

Patrick sighed deeply. "Emma..."

"I know." Emma said. "But I was angry. She made me angry."

"Just because you are angry, doesn't mean you get to go around and say

whatever you like." He shook his head. "Especially not to your teachers." He

sighed. "Anything else?"

Emma shook her head.

"Why did you get so involved, Emma?" Her mother wanted to know.

Emma sighed. She wasn't sure she wanted to tell them about Johnny, but the

look on her father's face made her reconsider. She didn't think she would get

away by not answering the question. "Johnny."

Shelagh frowned. "Your friend Johnny?" She continued after Emma's nod. "What

does he have to do with any of this?"

Emma shifted on her seat. "I really shouldn't tell you."

"Emma." Her father clenched his jaw. She was done with his daughter's

disrespect. "Answer your mother."

Shelagh squeezed the teenager's hand. "It's okay. Whatever you tell us will stay

between us."

Emma nodded. She took a deep breath and, with one eye on her father, she

answered her mother's question. "He's gay. His parents don't know, and he's

scared that they will find out." She hesitated. "He wants me to help him."

"Help him tell his parents?"

Emma shook her head. She moved her gaze to the floor, she didn't want to see

their reaction to what she would say next. "He wants me to help him run away."

Shelagh frowned. "And you turned him down, I hope."

Emma's silence answered for her.

Her father shook his head. "You can't, Emma. Not only because you would be in

serious trouble, Johnny is still a child. Where is he going to go? How is he going

to live? Not to mention how his parents are going to feel, having no idea what

happened to their son."

"I wasn't thinking about his parents." Emma said. "I just wanted to help him."

She looked up at her father. "I told him no, at first. Said I wouldn't do it." She

hesitated. "I knew you wouldn't approve."

Patrick softened his look. "I'm glad to hear that." He said. "What changed your

mind, then?"

"The head Matron." Emma sighed. "The way she spoke about Mr Jones, I

suddenly realised that everyone thought that same way about gays." She sniffed.

"I didn't think it was right for him to grow up, thinking he wasn't worth anything.

That he was sick. Abnormal." She shrugged. "I wanted him to know there was

someone on his side."

"You could have talked to me." Shelagh said, a bit hurt that she didn't. "We could have helped you."

"I can't talk about it with you. To you, he's a sin. You would have stopped me from seeing him. And he needed me. He needed my help. He still does. He's on his own."

"But you aren't, Emma." Patrick said. "We're here. You shouldn't have to go through this by yourself."

"And I wouldn't have stopped you from seeing him." Shelagh said. She wanted to make sure her daughter understood. "I am not harsh."

"No, you're not." Emma agreed. "But you were a nun." She swallowed. "Nuns believe in God, and God does not accept homosexuals."

"I am also a woman, a nurse, and a mother." She sighed. "And as such, I have different morals." She paused. "I still believe in God, and what He stands for. But I can't follow Him blindly anymore."

Emma nodded. She could understand that. "It's just hard. I'm not used to times like this. I've always been passionate when I believe someone's rights have been denied. I'm just not used to having so much resistance. It made me angry." She sighed. "And I said things I shouldn't have. To my teacher, to the Head Matron, to Uncle Peter." She swallowed before looking up at her parents. "To you."

Patrick nodded, accepting his daughter's silent apology. But there was one thing he hadn't figured out yet. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

Emma sighed. "My friend, back home, he's gay. He's kept it from his father, for years. Going as far as having a pretend relationship with a girl. I told him he's a fool. His father loves him. he wouldn't throw him out. But he doesn't want to see it. He's too scared, I guess." She shrugged. "I guess I saw it happen all over again with Johnny."

The trio were quiet, until her father decided to share a piece of his history with

her. "We are a lot alike." Patrick said. "I once stood up for a man, accused of much the same thing, in court."

Emma lifted her head. "Did it help him?"

"It did." Patrick smiled. "He was put on probation, under the condition to follow treatment."

"Let me guess," Emma laughed humourlessly. "Electro-chock therapy."

Patrick shook his head. "No, he took Stilbestrol."

Emma frowned. "What's that?"

"They're tablets, containing oestrogen. To suppress his urges."

"How did he end up? Tell me the truth, please. What did it do to him?"

Patrick sighed. "He tried to kill himself."

"I once feared he would." Emma said. "My friend, I mean." She sniffed.

Shelagh squeezed Emma's hand.

"He had a wife." Patrick continued. "A newborn child. And he lived for them."

"Did they accept him?"

"Over time, yes they did."

"Good." Emma said. "You can't help who you love. You shouldn't be punished for it. No matter what the bible says."

"Maybe this is something you should speak with reverend Hereward about." Shelagh said. "He could help you understand."

Emma sighed. "I know you believe in Him, in God. And I envy you. It must be a real comfort, sometimes."

Shelagh smiled. "Yes, it is."

"I just can't believe in someone that condemns. I just really can't. I tried, I really did. But I'm just not like that."

"And I'm not trying to make you 'like that'." Shelagh quoted the teenager. "It might just be easier if you understood where they came from."

Emma nodded. "Maybe." If it would please the other woman, she would talk to the reverend. But he wouldn't change her view.

Shelagh smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Patrick sighed. He didn't want to break up the moment, but they still have Emma's behaviour to deal with. "You know we can't let this go, right, Emma?"

Emma nodded. "I know." She said softly. She knew she was about to get her first spanking. There had been a slight hope she was going to get away with it, but that was crashed by her father's next words.

"You know you're going to get a spanking?" He asked.

Emma swallowed, but nodded. Her mouth suddenly gone dry.

Patrick nodded as well. "Is there anything more you'd like to say?"

Emma shook her head. She knew that nothing she could say would make them change their minds. She made a mistake, and now she was going to pay the consequence.

Patrick sighed. "Okay, then. Go to your room. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

Emma swallowed, and nodded, as she didn't trust her voice not to break. She slowly got up and walked up the stairs to her room.

Her parents watched her go, as Patrick sighed again. "I hate doing this." He confided to his wife, who smiled sadly. "I know. It's the hardest part about being a parent." She squeezed his hand.

"I'll get Angela and take her with me to pick up Timothy." Shelagh said. "We'll get some fish and chips to take home."

Patrick nodded. He knew she was giving him time to deal with their daughter.

Shelagh leaned over and kissed her husband on his cheek. "It's going to be okay, Patrick. She's not going to hate you."

Patrick looked to his wife in surprise. "How did you…"

"Because I know you." She replied. "And I know how much you worry."

"I don't know how I'm going to do it. I mean…" Patrick hesitated. "She's a girl."

Shelagh frowned. "It's no different from when you punish Timothy."

Patrick sighed. "I've just never spanked a girl before."

Shelagh smiled. "There's no difference. Just, instead of lowering her trousers, you pull up her skirt."

Patrick nodded. Okay, he could do that.

Shelagh laughed at his serious face. "You'll do great." She said. "And she loves you." She added. "You know that." She kissed him on the cheek and left to pick up Angela.

Patrick sighed as he got up to walk up the stairs. He really hated this part of parenthood.

Emma swallowed hard as she heard footsteps on the stairs. Her heart was beating fast, but she shook her head. There's no need to be scared, she told herself. He's not really going to hurt me.

Patrick walked to his daughter's bedroom, knocking softly on the door to announce his presence before opening the door.

Emma was sitting on her bed. When she heard the knock, she looked up, but didn't move. She wasn't sure what to do.

Patrick walked over and sat down next to his daughter, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

Emma swallowed. "I'm a bit nervous."

Patrick smiled softly. "A bit nervous is good." He assured her. "It will never be something you look forward too, but it will also not be something to fear." He continued. "Don't get me wrong, it won't be pleasant, and it will hurt, but it will be over soon."

Emma stood up, moving away from her father and her bed. "I can't do this."

"Come, Emma." Patrick said softly. His heart broke for his little girl. She looked so scared. "Come here, please." He repeated.

Emma shook her head. She couldn't. Her eyes moved from left to right, trying to find a way out of this.

Patrick didn't get angry, or raise his voice. He knew it was her nerves and her fear, and not outright disobedience. He stood up, and slowly moved over to Emma.

When Emma didn't move away from him, he slowly put his arms around her, and was surprised when she immediately sank in to the hug and started to cry.

Patrick held her closer. "It's alright." He murmured. "You really don't need to be scared." He rubbed circles on her back. "It'll be alright. It's not as bad as you think."

Her father's words, and especially his comforting hug, made her slowly calm down. She sniffed. "I'm sorry."

Patrick shook his head. "There is nothing to be sorry about. It's alright to feel nervous." He pushed her slightly away, to look into her eyes. "Do you want to talk about it a bit more?" He asked. "To reassure you?"

Emma shook her head. "I want to have it over with."

Her father nodded. "Okay. Let's get it over with then."

Patrick sat down on his daughter's bed. He beckoned her forward, having her stand in between his legs. "I know this is your first spanking, so I will explain everything I do, okay?"

Emma nodded. She had been quite nervous, ever since realising her parents wouldn't be happy that she had gotten a detention.

"I am going to lay you over my knees, and pull your dress up." Patrick continued. "I will pull your pants down and start swatting your behind."

Emma blushed bright red, but nodded.

"Afterwards, you will be forgiven and this will never be brought up again. Okay?"

Emma nodded.

Patrick carefully moved Emma across his lap, holding her in place with his arm wrapped around her waist. He gently rubbed her back, before lifting up her dress. He closed his eyes for a moment, before pulling her pants down.

Emma blushed. She couldn't believe she was lying over her father's knees, her pants around her ankles.

Lifting his hand, Patrick brought it down in the first firm smack that he then repeated.

Emma jumped at the first swat, before groaning at the next one. The swats had taken her by surprise.

Patrick settled in a pattern of swatting, starting at the top of her cheek and ending at the top of her thigh. He started again with the other cheek.

After a third circuit, Patrick started to speak. "Why are you getting this spanking, Emma?"

Emma frowned. He wanted her to think while she was getting punished? A hard swat confirmed that indeed, he did. She yelped. "Because… I got … a detention." She managed to get out.

Patrick nodded. He continued swatting while he spoke. "Yes, that's definitely one of the reasons. What are the other ones?"

Emma thought hard. "Because I… ow… talked bad … ow… about god?"

Patrick nodded. "Yes, partly. While normally, I wouldn't mind. Those are your opinions, and usually you are very careful who you share them with. However, the way you spoke to your teacher, is never acceptable."

Emma nodded. She knew it was, even while she was doing it. She had just been so angry. "I'm sorry." She sniffed. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, and the fire was starting to burn in her behind.

"I know you are." Patrick said gently. He wished he could stop the punishment now, but he knew it would be worse for Emma if he stopped before the end of her spanking. Before she let it all out. So he continued, even though all he wanted to do was scoop her up and hug her tight.

"What else?" Patrick asked.

Emma thought hard, but couldn't think of anything else she did wrong. "Ow… I don't… ow… I don't know."

Patrick sighed. "You scared us, Emma. When you didn't came home, we thought something had happened to you." He kept spanking her. "We thought you might have left."

Emma closed her eyes. She didn't think they cared that much. But now she could see she had been wrong.

"We love you, Emma." Patrick continued, laying down smack after smack. "And we don't want to lose you."

That was too much for Emma. She burst into tears, going limp over her father's lap.

Patrick softened the smacks, completing one more circuit before finally stopping. He started to rub soothing circles on her back. "It's done. It's over. You did so well."

Once Emma calmed down enough, and her sobs had turned into sniffs, Patrick gathered her daughter in his arms, hugging her close to himself. He kissed the side of her head. "I love you." he whispered.

Emma smiled through her tears. "I know." She whispered, snuggling close. "I love you too."

Patrick laid his chin on his daughters hand and held her close. They stayed that way until they heard the front door open and the sound of the rest of their family coming in.


	8. Chapter 8

When the father-daughter duo walked downstairs, the rest of the family was sitting at the dining table. Shelagh was handing out the paper packets to everyone.

"Would you like a pillow?" Timothy teased his sister.

Patrick frowned. "Unless you want to be in need of one yourself, I suggest you stop teasing your sister."

"Yes, sir." Timothy said, blushing as red as Emma.

Emma sat down, gently, next to Tim. She blushed as she saw he had given her a pillow anyway. She smiled her thanks.

Patrick sat down at the end of the table. He smiled at his wife as she squeezed his hand. He looked at each of his children and couldn't help the feeling of joy spreading through his chest.

The Turners enjoyed a simple meal. There was lots of talking and laughter, except for one of the members.

Emma's mind was still on her friend. "Can't you talk to them, dad? Help them understand. That way Johnny wouldn't have to run."

Patrick sighed. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to intervene." He paused. "And I don't think I need to verbalise it, but I will. You are not going to help him run away."

"But…"

"No." Patrick said sternly. "And that's the end of this conversation."

Emma angrily stabbed her vegetables with her fork, but she kept her tongue. She would just have to find a way to help Johnny without her parents finding out.

Patrick looked at his daughter and knew she wasn't going to back down easily. He sighed softly. Maybe there was something he could do after all.

Emma laid on the living room floor, her stomach to the ground. She was playing blocks with Angela. Patrick walked in to the room, smiling at his little girls.

"Come on, Emma." Patrick said, putting on his coat.

Emma frowned, before getting up and following him into the hallway.

Patrick held out Emma's coat. She accepted it without question.

"Where are we going?" Emma asked, while putting on her coat. "Is it a medical emergency?"

Patrick smiled. "The Mane family. And yes it is." He sighed. "You were right, Emma. Maybe I can convince them."

Emma grinned, her eyes lighting up. "Thanks, dad."

Patrick smiled. "If you are lucky, we might stop off and get some ice cream on the way back."

Emma smiled.

The car drive to Johnny's house was short. Emma was hyping herself us, thinking of all the things she wanted to say to Johnny's parents.

Emma suddenly felt nervous. She reached for her father's arm. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

Patrick smiled and pulled her in for a hug. "Don't you worry about that." He said. "I know exactly what to say."

Patrick knocked on the door. Emma hovered next to him

Mr Mane frowned as he opened the door to see Doctor Turner. "Is everything okay, doc?" he asked. He looked at Emma, who moved her gaze to her father.

Patrick nodded. "It is. But I would like to talk to you and your wife, if that's possible?"

"Well, my wife isn't here right now." Mr Mane explained. "But of course, come in." He opened the door, and stepped back, making space for Emma and her father to walk into the hallway.

Johnny looked shocked as he saw Emma and doctor Turner walk into his living room.

Emma swallowed, and didn't look her friend in the eyes. Now that they were here, she couldn't help but think that they were making a mistake.

Patrick sat down on the sofa, facing Mr and Mrs Mane. Emma sat down, gently, next to him. She wasn't sure what to do with her hand, so she clasped them together on her lap.

Patrick leaned forward. "I had a very interesting conversation with my daughter this afternoon. About your son."

Mr Mane frowned, looking at his son sternly. "What did he do?"

Johnny blushed and looked down at his hands.

Patrick shook his head. "It wasn't anything he did. It was about what he is planning to do."

Mr Mane shook his head. "I'm sorry, doc. You lost me."

Patrick smiled kindly. "My daughter is concerned about Johnny."

It was Emma's turn to blush and look down at her lap.

Mr Mane frowned. "Why would Emma be worried about my Johnny?" He turned to look at his son in worry. "Is he sick?"

Before Patrick could assure him he wasn't, Johnny spoke up for the first time that night. "You might think so."

His father frowned. His son's answer made him even more concerned. "What's going on, Johnny?"

Johnny took a deep breath. This was the moment he's been dreading, ever since figuring out what was going on with him. He looked at the floor while he confessed to his father. "I'm gay."

The father looked at his son in shock.

For a moment, no one spoke. The room was so silent, you could have heard a pin drop.

Mr Mane sat up straighter, and cleared his throat. "Okay." He paused. "Same rule as your sisters. No boys in the bedroom."

Johnny looked up in shock. He had expected anger and rage, not calm acceptance. "What?"

His father sighed. "Your mother had doubts, and we had talked about this possibility before." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter to us, boy." He added. "You're still our son."

Johnny stood up and threw himself at his father who expertly caught him and brought his son in close for a hug.

Emma smiled at her father. She was glad now, that they had come.

Once the father and son untangled themselves, Patrick stood up. "If you have questions, don't hesitate to contact me." He said.

"Thank you, doc." Mr Mane said. He walked them to the front door.

Emma waved at Johnny as she got into the car. Secretly, she was glad he wasn't leaving. She enjoyed having him as a friend.

The duo sat quietly in the car. Emma had a big smile on her face, as she looked at the passers-by. She was holding an ice cream cone, licking at it every few seconds.

Patrick smiled as he looked at her. Oh, how much he has grown to love her. She had changed so much from that timid little girl they first met all those months ago.

Patrick cleared his throat. "When we get home, we're going to have a conversation."

Emma swallowed, as she turned to look at her father. "Another one?"

Patrick frowned, before smiling as he realised what she was talking about. "Not that kind of conversation. An actual conversation, between you, your mother, and me." He sighed. "We need to talk about your school."

Emma nodded. She had known this was coming, sooner or later. She just hoped she would be able to say her piece. She really didn't want to go back to that school.

When they arrived home, Shelagh was waiting for them at the dinner table. "Timothy is in his room, working at his homework. I put Angela in bed already."

Emma looked between her parents. She wasn't sure what to do.

"Sit down." Her mother said, patting the seat of the chair next to her.

Emma gingerly sat down. Her bottom still tingled, all that sitting hadn't done it well.

Her father opened the conversation. "Since you will be working at the clinic…"

"What?" Emma blurted out. She looked between her parents. "Really?"

Patrick smiled. "Part-time, yes."

"Thank you." Emma smiled. She bounced in her seat. That meant she didn't have to go back to that school.

Shelagh smiled at her excitement.

"The other times," Her father continued. "You'll spend here, with your mother, doing school work."

Emma nodded, but frowned. "What kind of school work?"

"You'll study for your end terms. When you're still here when you're 18, and you want to go to university, at least you'll be able to. But we'll focus on the year 9 curriculum right now."

Emma nodded and smiled.

"Of course, there's not really a point in having you attend classes. But we'd like you to do some schoolwork each day."

Emma nodded. "The rest of the time I'll be at the clinic?" She asked.

Patrick smiled and nodded.

"But don't forget," Her mother warned her. "At the clinic, Sister Julienne is in charge. And she is more than cable of reining you back in when she needs to."

Emma blushed and nodded.

"Now where were we?" Patrick smiled. "Oh yes, since you will be working at the clinic, you will spend a lot more time with me and your mother helping our patients." He leaned down and laid a bag on the table. "These are my old study books. I think you'd like them."

Emma smiled brightly. She was in awe of the gift. "Are you giving them to me?"

Patrick smiled. "Yes, I'd like you to have them."

Emma looked through the titles before frowning. "But, what about Tim?"

Patrick smiled. "He's saving up to buy his own." He leaned forward. "Trust me, he would want you to have them."

Emma smiled brightly. "Thank you."

Her father took on a more serious note. "There is something else we have to talk about."

Emma hummed, to show that she was listening. She was browsing through the books Patrick had given her.

"You don't have to go back to school." Patrick said. "However, you will still have to sit out your detention."

"Even though I won't be going back?" Emma asked, confused.

Patrick nodded. "They want to make sure you are punished."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that sounds like them." She shook her head. "Can't you just tell them?" She didn't really want to go back and talk to the headmaster.

Patrick smiled. "What? That I've spanked you?" He teased his daughter.

Emma blushed bright red. "Yeah, maybe not."

Her parents laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Emma spend at Nonnatus House. Her parents needed to work and she needed to be supervised. She wasn't starting work until after the weekend. And since it was only Thursday, she had to content herself by doing household jobs to help the nurses.

At lunchtime, Nurse Gilbert suggested Emma should eat her sandwiches in the allotment. "It's a beautiful day, after all."

Emma shrugged. She quite liked a bit of sunshine.

Emma sat down on the bench, happily munching on her cheese sandwiches.

She waved at Reverend Tom as he came out of his house.

It wasn't until he entered the allotment that she realised she had been set up.

The reverend pointed to the bench. "Is this seat taken?"

Emma shook her head. She scooted to the end of the bench, making space for the man.

The reverend sat down, and smiled at her. "A beautiful day, isn't it?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Just tell me why you're here."

The other man smiled. "Your mother told me you wanted to talk to me."

Emma chuckled. "It's more like she wanted me to talk to you."

He smiled. "In any case, I'm free and people say I'm a good listener."

Emma smiled. "I'm sure you are, Reverend."

"Tom is fine, Emma." He said.

Emma nodded.

Tom waited a moment, expecting Emma to fill she silence. But she didn't.

Emma simply sat, staring at the people walking past.

Tom smiled. It seemed that, even though she didn't mind having a conversation, she wasn't going to be the one to start it. "Your mother told me you don't believe in God."

"I don't know how you can." Emma replied. She was tired of people questioning her faith. "You see so much pain, and suffering."

"I do." Tom nodded. "But that's when I feel closest to Him."

Emma scoffed. "Funny. That's why I know he can't be real."

Emma shook her head. "I don't mean to insult you, I really don't. And I definitely don't mean to be disrespectful." She sighed. "It's just, I've seen things …"

Emma sighed. It had been a while since she had thought about her best friend. But she could still picture the last time she saw her.

She took a deep breath before looking at the reverend. "I had a friend. Back home. She believed, very much." Emma sighed. "And when she got sick, she thought that he would cure him. She was sure of it. She kept praying to him. Hell, she may have even made me believe." Emma swallowed hard. "She believed he'd heal her. But he didn't. She got worse, and then she died anyway."

Emma took a deep breath. "I was there when she died. I'll never forget the look of fear on her face." She closed her eyes. She still saw the image in her dreams, staring back at her.

Tom closed his eyes. "You should tell your mother, this. It will help her understand."

Emma shook her head, wiping away a stray tear. "I don't want her sympathy."

"It won't be sympathy, Emma. It will be love."

"Will it? I've heard it all before. All that she'll say is that she's in a better place, now." Emma shook her head. "But how can she be, if she's not with me?"

Tom sighed. "I'm afraid I don't have an answer for that."

Emma shook her head, a small smile on her face. "I wasn't expecting one." She sighed. "You're never going to persuade me to believe in him, but I understand why you do."

"And I understand why you don't." Tom smiled kindly at her.

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

"What made you decide to be a reverend?" Emma asked. She wondered what it was that drove people to such professions.

Tom smiled. "It wasn't really a decision. I felt called to it. I hadn't planned on being a reverend, nor any role in the religious life."

Emma nodded. "Must have been quite a change, then."

Tom smiled. "Indeed it was."

He looked back at Emma. "What about you?"

Emma chuckled. "To be honest, I've never thought that far ahead. I just,… got through the days."

Tom frowned. "Seems a bit rough."

Emma smiled. "It was." She shrugged. "It's all I knew, though, so…" She stopped herself, she wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tom asked.

Emma sighed. "That's very nice of you, but I haven't talked about it with anyone… I just don't think I'm ready for it."

"No problem." Tom smiled. "As long as you know that my door is always open. Any time."

Emma smiled. "Thank you, Tom."

The rest of her lunchbreak was spend talking about things that were comfortable to talk about.

When Nurse Crane came to pick her up for a house visit, Emma reluctantly stood up. Tom followed her, and smiled at her.

And Emma realised she had actually enjoyed their time together. She turned back to the reverend and hugged him, surprising both him and himself. She blushed as she let go and followed Nurse Crane back into Nonnatus House. How lucky she was, to have such caring friends.


	10. Chapter 10

With a heavy heart, Emma walked back through the gates of the school she so detested. She wasn't sure how she was going to get through this detention.

Her parents had warned her not to let the headmistress taunt her into a reply. She was to remain pleasant and polite. The tingling in her backside reminded her of the consequences if she would fail.

The otherwise bustling schoolyard was empty, freaking her out a little bit. Deserted, it looked creepy. No children playing on the swing set. No teachers watching for misbehaviour. No laughing voices. Just quiet.

Emma knew where she was going. The headmistress called the Turner residence last night, wanting to make sure Emma was still going to the detention. Her parents assured her that she was. During that conversation, the headmistress reminded her parents that Emma was to be at school at 9 am sharp, and was to report to the headmistress' office.

Which she did. At 8:45 sharp, Emma stood in front of the headmistress' office. She couldn't hide the smug smile as her headmistress looked up, frowning. She had probably hoped Emma would be late, so she could punish the girl further. But Emma had dealt with women like this before, and she knew the only way to deal with them was by pretending their behaviour didn't affect you at all.

The headmistress stood up and, with an admonishment to hurry, since she was clearly almost late, she led Emma to the detention room. Emma rolled her eyes at the woman's back, but didn't reply.

The detention room has always intrigued Emma, from the very moment Timothy had warned her about it. Her brother wouldn't tell her more, but she got the idea he'd heard some scary stories about what goes on in that room.

The room itself was small. It had several old looking desks crammed in there, all facing the wall. The room had no windows for the students to distract themselves with, just bare white walls. But that wasn't what surprised her.

She had expected to be the only one in detention that day. But one of the tables was occupied by a red-haired girl. She was wearing the school uniform, just like Emma was.

Emma smiled at her and the girl smiled tentatively back. Emma was about to introduce herself, when the headmistress began to speak. "Hurry up, Miss Turner. Choose a seat. We don't have all day to wait for you."

Emma resisted, with great difficulty, to roll her eyes and instead smiled brightly at the woman. "Of course, miss."

Emma moved towards the back of the room, choosing the seat on the same row as the other girl. She didn't sit down right next to her, she figured that wouldn't be allowed. Instead, she let one seat open in between them. She smiled at the other girl.

The Headmistress nodded, pleased that she put the teenage girl in her place. She placed herself in front of the chalkboard. "Now, let's go over the rules." She looked sternly at both girls. "There will be no talking. You will be given schoolwork and will be expected to finish it by the time your detention is over." She placed a bundle of papers in front of each girl.

The headmistress lingered as she placed the bundle on Emma's desk. And she soon realised why. But Emma refused to react. She wasn't giving that woman the satisfaction.

The headmistress walked back to the front of the classroom. She looked at the clock. It was exactly nine o'clock. "You have two hours, and your time starts now."

Both girls bend over their desk, focused on their individual work, and remained there for the next two hours. Both furiously scribbling on the paper.

As if counting down the seconds, the headmistress cleared her throat as the clock struck 11. "Lay down your pens, girls. Your time has run out."

Emma laid down her pen. She couldn't hide the pleased smile as the headmistress came to pick up her work. Just as the headmistress couldn't hide her disappointment as she looked through the pages. "I counted them for you." She couldn't help but add.

"Me too." The girl piped up from her right. Emma turned surprised eyes to her fellow detentee. Did she have to write the same lines as Emma?

The headmistress sniffed. "Alright, then." She finally replied. "You are free to go."

Emma stood up promptly, looking over at the other girl. The red head was already on her way to the door. Emma quickly joined her. They looked at each other and left the room, laughing.

"No running in the hallway." The headmistress called after them. But neither girl seemed to slow down as they made their way out of the building and into the open air.

Emma turned to the other girl. "So, what were you in for?" She was curious as to what the other girl could have done to have warranted a detention.

The girl blushed. "I talked back to the teacher." She hesitated. "You?"

Emma smiled. "Me too. Oh, and blasphemy of course." She said as an afterthought.

The girl looked at her in awe. "Wow." She exclaimed quietly.

"What did she make you do?" Emma asked, as they started to walk across the courtyard.

The girl sighed. "'I will not disrespect my teacher'. 200 lines."

Emma smiled. "'I will not disrespect my teacher, nor will I take the Lord's name in vain.' 400 lines."

The girl looked back at her in shock. "400? And you finished in time?"

Emma shrugged. "I'm a fast writer. Besides, I knew she wanted me to fail, and I wasn't going to prove her right."

"Prove her right?"

Emma sighed. "She hates me. I'm not sure whether it is that I'm adopted, or because I'm not afraid to speak my mind. I think it's probably both." She shrugged. "To be honest, I don't really care. I'm just glad I never have to see her again."

The girl frowned. "You're not going back?" She asked.

Emma smiled. "My parents thought it would be better not to send my back. So, I'm going to be home schooled."

"I definitely understand why you don't want to go back, but I don't want to be home schooled." She hesitated. "Will you still be around, thought?" She had quite enjoyed the time she spend with the older girl.

Emma smiled. "I live on Stoneyard Lane." She said. "But my sister goes to the nursery on Castor Lane, so I'm always around there too."

The girl nodded. "I live on Castor Lane."

"Perfect." Emma smiled. "I will definitely see you around, then."

Emma smiled as she spotted her parents on the other side of the school gate. She turned to the other girl. "That's for me. I guess I'll see you around."

The other girl nodded. "I hope so." She smiled.

Emma paused in her step, and turned back around to face the other girl. "I'm sorry, I never asked for your name."

The other girl smiled. "It's Mary."

Emma smiled back. "Hi, Mary. My name is Emma. Nice to meet you."

The girls smiled brightly as they each went their separate ways.

As Emma walked to her parents, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe the detention hadn't been that bad after all.


End file.
